


Improper Shutdown

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, First Times, M/M, Romance, Series: Technical Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim conquers his fear-based responses and acts.<br/>This story is a sequel to General Protective Fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improper Shutdown

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Tinn for double duty as Muse *and* Beta.

## Improper Shutdown

by Silk

Author's webpage: <http://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/>

Author's disclaimer: All things Sentinel belong to PetFly and Paramount. Not me. I do this for love, not money. No, I'm *not* rich.

* * *

Improper Shutdown 

By Silk 

By the time I get to the restaurant, Sandburg is already there. I don't know how I'm going to handle this. Would he feel betrayed by what I did? Or flattered? 

I know how I feel. I can't believe that he picked me. Out of however many emails he must have received. The question is: _why_ did he pick me? What did he see in my letters that he didn't see in me face-to-face? 

Okay, I admit, I was more honest about my feelings as Jack. The anonymity of the Internet gives me a freedom of expression that I have rarely, if ever, known. Is that the source of the attraction for him? What the fuck's the matter with me? I sound like I'm in competition with myself. 

Only the thing is, I think I am. 

He looks tense. Almost upset. Did I make him that way? When he looked up at me before, such wonder in his eyes, I thought, Oh, God, I want to kiss him. But I was afraid. I didn't know how he might take it. I let the moment pass. 

Now he's sitting at the table, impatiently drumming his fingers on the varnished wood surface. It sounds so loud, improbably loud for something so trivial, until I realize that I've unconsciously dialed up my hearing. For what? To catch the muttered imprecations when he begins to curse me out? He doesn't even know I'm here. 

Or does he? 

He may not have Sentinel senses, but being knee-deep in cops for four years certainly seems to have honed his natural instincts. He seems...aware. Of me? I can't tell. He's wearing the same somber face that he left the loft with. He smells the same, too. Vaguely salty. But it's not arousal. It's-Oh, God, it just hit me. The way he wouldn't look at me when he said goodbye. He was holding back tears. 

Christ, I need to go to him and get this over with. Right now. 

I can't. My feet are frozen to the spot, and I seem to have taken up residence behind this painted privacy screen. This is one hell of a classy place. I would be impressed if I wasn't so fucking frightened. 

Sandburg takes a sip of his water and clears his throat. I've never seen him be silent for this long. But then, he _is_ alone. 

This isn't going the way I imagined it. I'm no fucking coward. I was a Ranger; I was in Covert Ops. I know how to deal with people who want to kill me. 

I just can't seem to handle people who want to love me. 

* * *

Okay, I am definitely not waiting any longer. Sandburg looks like a man who's been stood up. I glance at my watch and realize that he's right. He has. 

Time to do something about those fear-based responses. 

* * *

I stop directly behind Sandburg's chair. I see his face reflected in the mirror opposite him. His eyes have never looked so big or round or blue. 

"Jim! What are you doing here?" 

Before I can answer him, Sandburg seems to have jumped to the wrong conclusion. Way to go, Ellison, I congratulate myself, you've managed to fuck up another relationship. 

"You followed me, didn't you?" Sandburg's voice sounds impossibly shrill to my ears. He's angry. What a surprise. 

Unlike me, however, Blair is more circumspect. He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial level, preventing anyone listening in from getting an earful about what he's going to say next. 

"You used your Sentinel senses to spy on me, didn't you? Why, Jim? I told you it was just a date, man. And now, thanks to you, I've been stood up." 

"Thanks to me?" I echo. 

"Yeah, you probably scared Jack away." 

"How, Chief?" I'm lost somewhere in the limbo of being Jack and being Jim, and the improbable thought of scaring myself away threatens to make me laugh out loud. Which would _not_ endear me to Sandburg. 

"How the fuck should I know? You probably stood outside glowering at anyone who looked remotely interested in getting to know me." 

There is a significant pause. Blair is thinking. I know he is. What's more, for all his show about being pissed off that I intimidated his date into taking a hike, he's relieved that Jack isn't here. I could sense the spike in his heart rate when he began shouting, but unless I miss my guess, he was glad to see me. And not that perturbed about missing the elusive Jack. 

That's when I get overconfident. I lay my hand on Blair's arm and he looks daggers at me. "Don't touch me!" 

I glance around at the other patrons and note that no one is particularly interested in our conversation. Still, I would feel a whole lot more comfortable continuing this at home. 

"Why don't we go home, Chief?" 

"Why don't you knock off the overprotective act, Jim? Cause that's just what it is-a fucking act! And another thing-" 

He shrugs my hands off his shoulders. His smoky blue eyes are heated, erotic sapphires that pull me closer. I drop my own gaze and stare helplessly at his sensual mouth. The same mouth that made me ache for not taking what it promised. 

I tell myself not to zone, but it's too late. 

I can't resist. 

I kiss him. 

End 


End file.
